


Sweet Dreams

by agorafobia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And with Derek/Lydia, But it's mostly Sterek if I'm being honest, Gen, Initially I wanted Stiles to interact with the Hale girls and Paige but I got sidetracked, Multi, Nemeton Dreams, Nogitsune Stiles, Possessed Stiles, Stiles dreams with the dead basically, This is so short damn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agorafobia/pseuds/agorafobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles dreams of good things while the nogitsune is using his body. (Okay, some of them may be a little angsty.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone writes possessed!stiles as in, like, extreme pain; screaming and kicking inside. And I'm totally down with that but I was listening to Angel Olsen and feeling so mellow and thought, what if he is actually okay? You know. What if he is just... Sleeping. No nightmares. Only sweet, really sweet, fucking dreams. 
> 
> These are those dreams. 
> 
>  
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

 

"Every time I close my eyes,

Something small within me dies."

Angel Olsen's "Sweet Dreams" from _The Sleepwalker_ , 2013

 

 

"Stiles?"

She's right next to him, mouth close to ear, her bare leg against his.

"Stiles, are you sleeping?" Her voice is barely a whisper but he can hear her smiling.

"Hmm Hmm" He moans softly.

They are laying together on the grass, the air is hot and the sun bright, even with his eyes closed; he rubs them with both hands in fists and sees streaks of red and yellow and purple like a painted sunset. She hides her nose of the crook of his neck and breathes deeply. "You smell so nice," She says. Stiles chuckles. Earlier that day, on their usual walk around the Hale property, they had found a stream Stiles could swear shouldn't exist but there it was; full of water, crystal like water, and she had immediately taken her summer dress off and jumped in while he sat on a rock and watched her swim, then float like ophelia, then splash her eyelashes and demand for him to join her.

"I read something once," He kisses the top of her head "About how the water you touch in a river is the last of what has passed and the first of that which comes. That it is the present." She nods, her nose brushing his cheek, "Leonardo da Vinci."

After a couple of minutes Stiles realizes their skin is completely dry.

"I don't want to leave,"

She shrugs, "Don't."

"We can't stay here forever."

"Sure we can."

Stiles laughs. "We are hardly the quiet ones."

"We can be."

"I bet we couldn't stay still for one hour."

She let's go of his fingers abruptly and rolls on top of him, "Could."

"Especially like this," He laughs, wrapping his hands around her tiny body.

Like in a game of stare they look into each other's eyes for the longest time. If she thinks he will look away she's fruitlessly mistaken. 

"Stiles." She whispers, strands of hair tickling his collarbones.

"Lydia." He whispers back. 

"If he finds you, you stay here with me, okay?"

"If who finds me?"

She cups his face with a hand in a peculiar urgency, "Just stay here with me."

"Okay. Hey," He pulls her to him, her head rests on his shoulder, "I'm here."

 

* * *

 

He's at the Beacon Hills' Brew, a chocolate milkshake in one hand, a book about tropical diseases under the other. The place is unusually quiet; Stiles tries to think what day of the week it is but he can't _quite_ remember and he's so into his read that it doesn't even bother him. Monday, probably. A leg bumps against his under the table and, without looking up, he says, "Have you heard about African Trypanosomiasis? It is also known as sleeping sickness and it's a parasitic disease. Basically you get bitten by a fly and start turning into _stone_. Well, not completely, just a limb or two. But that's the final stage, the beginning sounds actually worse," Stiles hisses and looks up then, "Don't you look fascinated!"

"I am fascinated," Derek deadpans. 

"Have you been running? You smell."

"I smell." Derek crosses his arms and exhales.

"Yes, you smell."

"Like what."

"Like — Like a _man_ ," Stiles' neck goes red. "You know what I mean."

"Don't know what you mean half of the time you're speaking. Which is always."

"Ha ha. Go home and shower."

Derek groans, "Can't. Laura and mom are getting the house ready for tonight and apparently I can't be around."

Stiles laughs, "You would destroy the decorations with that sour face of yours."

"That joke is getting old."

"I thought you liked when I made casual throwbacks to our early days together," Stiles teases.

"I like it when you are quietly reading your books." Derek looks around them to avoid Stiles' stupid smile, "Where the hell are the staff?"

"Hmm. Not sure." Stiles shrugs.

"I'm starving."

Stiles closes his book and drowns what is left of the milkshake, "We could go get some burgers."

"'kay, sure."

They get up and Stiles is right behind Derek, who turns around and digs his index directly where Stiles' heart should be.

"We can try that new place with the veggie burgers Cora won't shut up about."

Stiles shakes his head. "Only you could make a lunch suggestion look threatening. And _feel_ , by the way."

There's a hint of a smile on Derek's lips. "Still scare you,"

"Not even!" Stiles whines and they leave the Brew arguing about it.

 

* * *

 

The evergreens and spruces scent the air, as the girls' fruity perfumes, in a gentle breeze. Birds sing everywhere while the trees that surround the lacrosse field muffle the noises of the students still left at school; it's the _perfect_ spring day. Scott sneezes three or four times and Allison awes at his puppy red eyes after a choir of _bless you_. _  
_

"Fucking tulips," He sighs.

"Hmm," Lydia looks up from her drawing pad "I would say the problem are the daffodils,"

Scott shots her a look. 

"You're right, your allergies, your spring flowers of choice." She goes back to sketching Erica, who has fallen asleep, wrapped around Boyd's sweater.

Boyd, Isaac and Danny throw a ball around, a couple of yards from where they are sitting. 

"We should go camping," Stiles says, all teeth.

Scott groans, "That is literally the worst idea you could have right now."

Allison smiles back at Stiles, "I'm in. I love camping. I used to do it a lot with my dad when we lived in Alaska."

"Yes!" Stiles cries, "Let's hunt for food, all that."

"You couldn't kill a deer to save your life," Lydia points out.

"True. But _Allison_ can kill a deer to save our lives! And that's why we love her."

Scott frowns, "That is _not_ why I love her."

Boyd and Isaac share a look and mouth "Boobs," and laugh like thirteen year olds. Danny slaps them both on the head.

"Why camping, tho?" Scott sneezes again as to make his point.

"Because," Stiles gestures wildly to where Danny is standing. "You know."

"Because... Of Danny?"

"Do not drag me into this, Stilinski." Danny yells, running for the ball.

Erica shifts a little and Lydia yells back, "Be quiet!"

"Whatever," Stiles half whispers "Forget I said anything."

He lets his body fall back and stares at the bluest, brightest sky. Time seems to be passing very, _very_ slowly, and he has the strangest sensation that his body is somewhere else. Allison helps Scott with his french homework and, for a while, all Stiles hears are their voices lulling him to sleep. 

"Réveillez-vous."

Scott repeats after Allison.

"Nous sommes en guerre."

"Vou rêvez."

" _Vous_ rêvez." Lydia corrects him.

"Je vous prie de combattre avec nous."

Erica yawns, gets up and stands above Stiles, shielding him from the sun. She's wearing the catwoman t-shirt he gave her for christmas. "So, have you told them, or what."

Stiles shakes his head and tries to somehow warn her not to say anything with his eyes and hands but Allison asks "Tell us what?" and Erica spills it all out. 

"About camping. Stiles is crushing on this guy we," She points at herself and then at Danny "Met the other day at the Jungle."

Isaac snorts, "Is he a _bear_?"

Stiles sighs while the rest of the group erupts in laughs and questions and sneezes.

 

* * *

 

Claudia Stilinski had a catholic upbringing but, in college, she joined the Polish National Catholic Church which differs theologically from the Catholic Church in several important aspects like the acceptance of divorce and how it welcomes people of all ethnic, racial and social backgrounds. When the disease was well settled in her brain Stiles would often find her awake at night, sitting on the living room, looking at dust, and call for her with his little worried voice.

"Mom?"

One bad day she looked back at him and he knew she couldn't see him.

"Sing the praises of the LORD, you his faithful people; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." She said. 

Stiles' dad came and took him away to his bedroom. Only when he heard his parent's bedroom door lock did he let himself cry his little terrified cry. 

He continued to attend church even after his mother was dead. It felt important somehow. Like she would want him to be there, to listen to those words and make peace with, not only God, but himself for not being able to save her. When Stiles' father had to work Scott would go with him; they would seat on the back row, behind a sea of heads, and Scott would always find excuses to touch Stiles, to reassure him he was _there_ , always there for him.

 

This time they are at the church alone. 

In his hand a piece of paper, like a fortune cookie, that reads: I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.

 

"Do you believe in God?"

"Whoa," Scott makes a face like he's thinking _really_ hard. Finally he shrugs, "I believe in us."

Stiles laughs, "The Mccall and Stilinski church, like the sound of that."

"I'm serious. It's hard to believe in God when my mom comes home after a double shift or when your father is called to a deadly car crash. But," He looks down at his hands, "We're still here."

"Indeed we are."

"Do you think God would have stopped me from setting myself on fire in that horrible motel?"

Stiles shivers at the memory. 

"You know I would take a bullet for you, buddy." Stiles says, with a light tone although it is the truth. He would _die_ for Scott.

Scott smile doesn't quiet reach his eyes, "Ditto. A sword, even."

Stiles chuckles nervously and holds his best friend's hand.

"Us," He repeats.

 

 

* * *

 

The crowd is going insane.

They are _killing_ it.

Kira on the electric guitar, Erica banging furiously on the drums, Allison's steady fingers on the bass and Lydia, like a siren from the sea, at the front. They are mostly doing covers from female artists, since it's their first show, but they sound _so good_  together Stiles feels like he has been gaping at them since they got up there. 

"Dude," He shouts to no one in particular.

Next to him Isaac seems to have died and gone to heaven. Is he — Yep, he is actually drooling.

"I told you they were good!" Scott's beaming with proud. 

Lydia plays with the microphone's wire, has it wrapped around her legs, moves her hips ever so slowly to Kira's electrifying solo, and it's the most fucking delicious thing Stiles has ever seen. 

"Nothing could be hotter than this," Isaac says.

When the song ends, and while the crowd roars for more, Allison turns to Erica who shows her her bloody hands. 

"Fuck!" Allison laughs.

And then.

And then she _licks_ them.

Despite all the chatting and noise around them Isaac's boner is totally audible.

"I need a drink," He disappears towards the bar and Stiles and Scott double over laughing.

 

Lydia is talking to the crowd and it's like she was born for this. At the beginning of the show her hair had been in a braided crown but now it's messy and falling apart and shining bright red from the white light above them and everything is so _her;_ this devouring force of nature.

"This one is dedicated to those idiots boys over there," Lydia points at them. "And those two at the bar."

"And the one at the door!" Erica shouts.

They laugh and cheer and shout and howl for Boyd, who was stuck outside doing security. 

 

She starts at cappella. 

"If you could only see the beast you've made of me,"

Scott is jumping up and down in anticipation. 

"Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart,"

Erica comes in, beat beat beat beat beat,

"My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in,"

Allison jumps in, giving another layer to the pulse like sound,

"You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to..."

Kira's guitar basically explodes at the same time as Lydia screams "Howl!"

 

After the show the guys load the girl's gear into Boyd's van. Isaac lights a joint and they sit on the sidewalk, smoking and talking about the show, while waiting for the girls to come out. When they do, Lydia walks straight to Stiles and holds out her hand for him, "Let's go." As usual they end up at the Wolfsbane club; as soon as they walk in and see that it's Laura Hale djing the girls go _wild_ and rush to the dancefloor. Laura spins mostly 90's hip hop and r'n'b but with a rock twist to it, it's awesome. They order two bottles of vodka and toast to the girls' first show, like, at least eight times.

All in all it's one of the best nights of Stiles life. Scott only leaves his Allison and Isaac sandwich to hug Stiles and yell, "I love you so much, bro." Boyd is quiet, as always, but wears a happy smirk as Erica grinds against him; they're like the Jay-Z and Beyoncé of Beacon Hills. Lydia has half of the male crowd staring at her, as usual. Kira and Stiles, the dorkiest dancers of the group, end up in a corner discussing myths. 

Laura ends a Nirvana/Notorious B.I.G mashup (who knew Kira was into B.I.G?) and drops Technotronic's "Pump The Jam" without giving them a second to breathe. Kira is pulled by Scott and Stiles by Allison and the sandwich expands to this insane train of sweat and terrible dance moves. Stiles can't stop laughing, it is seriously starting to hurt his stomach.

Yeah, it's a pretty great night.

 

* * *

 

 

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Derek just ran in, panting.

"Wow. Why?"

"For two days," Derek inhales sharply.

"What are you talking about?"

"And you've been here the whole time," Now he looks pissed off with Stiles like it's his fault for being at _home,_ in _his bedroom_.  

"Dude, you need to chill."

"Don't you _dude you need to chill me_ , okay."

Stiles snorts, "Okay."

Derek exhales and sits at the edge of Stiles' bed. A couple of seconds pass and it looks like he has nothing else to say. The weirdo.

"So? You've been looking for me, I'm here, what's going on."

"Nothing," Derek says too quickly "Just wondering where you were."

_Such_ a weirdo. 

"That is, in no way, unexpected."

 

 

Although having Derek here again reminds him of much simpler times. It's nice. He can't believe he had _Derek,_ terrifying Derek who would leave bruises all over Stiles' body just by talking in his direction _,_  sleeping on the floor next to him all those moonless nights ago. It was nice. Getting home and having him there. Usually Derek was already up by the time Stiles would drag himself out of bed but once he had a nightmare and woke up before dawn and got to see Derek frowning, even in his sleep, and watch his chest rise and fall with anger — or maybe something else close to panic — and wonder what was his deal. Now Stiles sort of knows what the deal was; a _lot_ of death.

And more death since. 

 

"I'm sorry about Paige," He blurts out.

Derek looks up at Stiles like he has been electrocuted but, when he speaks, his voice is even, "You know about Paige."

Stiles scratches the back of his head, uncomfortable, "Yeah. Peter told me."

Derek chuckles bitterly, "Yeah. I wouldn't believe anything Peter says."

"The middle doesn't matter if the ending was the same. I mean, it matters, but not now — not for this. What I mean is, I'm _sorry_ , about what you had to do. I don't know if I could..."

"Kill Lydia?"

"I was going to say kill someone I loved but, yeah, sure."

"I thought she was your big," Derek blushes a little "You know."

"My emotional tether? Deaton's words man, not mine." Stiles winks out of reflex. It's weird. He enjoys their banter but they haven't been alone, like this, in so long... Why is Derek here again?

"Why are you here."

"I've told you."

"You've told me a _lie_. Are you hiding again?"

Derek rolls his eyes, "I'm not hiding."

"Because you can totally stay here if you want. I got some homework to do but I know you'll brood quietly in a corner so I'm cool. You just need to hide when my dad gets in, the old same old same."

"The sheriff knows I wouldn't hurt you." Derek says, softly, too softly.

 

Stiles swallows hard, mouth dry.

He is about to ask, for the last time, what the hell is going on when he notices Derek has a hole in his shirt, right where his heart should be.

It looks like a gunshot wound.

Smoke and blood pour out of it.

Stiles' hands start trembling.

Out of nowhere Lydia's voice fills his mind, calling for him, again and again and again.

"Do you hear that?" He asks Derek, who gets up and walks to him, with his hands out, like Stiles is some wild animal. 

"What. Stiles, what do you hear."

"Lydia. I — I think she's in trouble. She needs me."

Derek holds Stiles' wrists, making it impossible for him to move, "No. You stay here." He orders.

"You don't understand, she was just screaming  _in my head_. I need to find her,"

"No," Derek's eyes flash blue. "You need to stay here with me."

Stiles tries to fight his way out of Derek's hands but he's far from strong enough for that. So he cracks his neck up, looks Derek directly in the eyes and makes sure his voice sounds as threatening as it gets, "Let go."

Derek doesn't flinch. 

"I know you're still mad at Lydia for bringing Peter back but he used her! It wasn't her." He's shouting now "It wasn't her! Come on, Derek, if you don't care about her at least, _shit_ , I know you care about..."

"About _you_?" Derek shouts back. "Of course I do, that's why I won't let you go."

 

Stiles is breathing too fast. 

He looks down and Derek falls to his knees to catch his eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

Stiles chuckles, tears falling down his cheeks silently. 

"Well, you gotta trust me this once."

 

Stiles manages to calm himself down while Derek explains Lydia isn't in danger but looking for Stiles as well; that's why they have to stay here, so she can find him. Apparently Stiles is dreaming, has been asleep and dreaming for a while now. Derek is just a figment of Stiles unconscious brain. He isn't real. 

Stiles closes his eyes suddenly exhausted. When he opens them again there's a bright white light that blinds him for a moment. 

He is at the same place where the sacrifice brought him.

The hole on Derek's chest is gone. Lydia's scream is gone. Derek's hands are still around Stiles' wrists. 

"You can let go now," He says looking around "There's nowhere to go."

Derek doesn't move. 

Stiles sighs "I'm tired,"

He can feel his mind shutting. He can feel himself drifting away.

"I know. Hey, look at me. I won't let go of you. I found you in time. I won't let go."

Stiles smiles, "My mind is making you say these things."

"You wish you could control me," Derek smiles back.

"See? Real Derek would never smile while talking to me."

"Shut up, Stiles."

"Oh, I see what you did there. My mind is so clever. Mind five!"

Derek shakes his head but he's smiling again.

 

"Derek?"

"Yes, Stiles."

"My blood needs to get to my hands at some point."

Derek sighs.

"Just saying."

"Well, didn't you also say I'm not real and you're controlling me?"

"Why are you even all over me should be the question."

Derek blushes, "Shut up."

"I must tell you this is waking up some _pretty_ strong feelings inside of me..."

"I'm not letting go of you, Stiles."

 

They are quiet for a total of fifty seconds.

 

"What if I kissed you?"

"I would head-butt you so hard you would pass out."

Stiles laughs, "Oh boy. I do like this dream, you know. This is a sweet dream."

 

 


End file.
